My dad was a huge personality, and he loved to embarrass, impress, annoy or over-the-top show his love. I so distinctly remember how my dad loved to blast the volume and show off his surround sound system. It reminds me of the part in the Italian Job one of the characters wants speakers so loud it would blast a woman's dress off. Dad loved to crank it loud, pump up the bass and shake everything in the area. He got such a kick out of it. I've lost a lot of memories of him, but this is one I'll never forget. Dad's favorite movie/soundtrack to use? The opening song in Top Gun. So melodic, with the navy planes blasting and a ton of boom, it was his giddy joy to make people jump when all the loud noises kicked in.
A couple of weeks ago, I was visiting with my former boss and his son took me on a tour of their home. The highlight was the movie room. As he worked to play something and crank the volume, the memory of dad came top of mind at a speed of quickness I can't explain. It's sad and joyous all in the same moment. Grief does that, pulls many emotions out all at once. As they talk and play a movie, all I can think about is that moment and what life would be like if he were here today. I just know dad would have a movie room with Top Gun constantly prepped to play at a moments notice.
I'm even reminded of it again as I scroll through our DVR to pick a movie to fall asleep to and pass Top Gun in the list. I crack a smile, a tiny laugh and a have brief memory of the first man I loved. Maybe it's a subtle way he reminds me he's still around or just a precious internal way of keeping him alive, but I love it. For a brief moment he's alive again and never left. I live for little moments like this. It's what anyone who grieves does. In the midst of a point in life filled with uncertainty, this give me peace. What a wonderful gift.
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